


a tale of two idiots

by overcastskeleton



Series: the facm!verse [4]
Category: Narcos (TV)
Genre: Adult Language, Emotions, Fluff, Multi, slight angst, the boys finally get their shit together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-29
Updated: 2021-01-29
Packaged: 2021-03-15 17:01:10
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,635
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29067708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/overcastskeleton/pseuds/overcastskeleton
Summary: The boys get their shit together and team up to make it up to you [Sequel to "pieces of us"]
Relationships: Javier Peña/Reader, Steve Murphy (Narcos)/Reader, Steve Murphy/Javier Peña/Reader
Series: the facm!verse [4]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2079051
Comments: 7
Kudos: 24





	a tale of two idiots

**Author's Note:**

> Another day, another installment of the facm!verse. Thank you all so much for your support with this series, and just giving me the space to play around with it. No smut this chapter, but I'll make it up to you next time!

“You look like shit,” Javi says, setting a styrofoam cup of coffee in front of Steve before slumping into the chair across from him. 

_ Shit _ is putting it nicely. Steve knows he looks a mess, hair all askew and shirt dirty and wrinkled. That and the bags under his eyes from his fretful sleep have him looking like a walking skeleton. He’s barely awake as it is, and to top it all off, his head pounds like someone is driving a stake into his temple every fucking second. Steve looked ten degrees past  _ shit _ . 

Steve takes it. “Good morning to you too.” He rolls the cigarette he’s smoking between his thumb and forefinger. “I’ve got a hangover and my back hurts from sleeping on the fucking couch.” 

You hadn’t been there when he woke up that morning, body aching from the confined space of the couch. The apartment was quiet, void of all the things that made mornings spent with you special. Gone was your usual soft singing accompanied by the radio and the smell of coffee and toasted bread-- the only breakfast you had time for now that you started your new TA job at the small college downtown. Most days you hitched a ride to work with Steve, today he’d figured you’d just ask Javi. 

“Heard something about that,” Javi mumbles into his styrofoam cup. “You two got into a fight?” 

“It wasn’t a fight. I just said something stupid.” Steve shakes his head. “Really fucking stupid, and she left. I’m sure she told you  _ all _ about it.” 

Javi becomes uncharacteristically quiet, dropping his eyes down to the unopened file that sits on his desk. “We didn’t really talk about it much, but she looked really upset. What did you say?” 

Steve pinches the bridge of his nose. “She was worried about me, just trying to help y’know, and I...I asked her if she thought she could fuck it all away and make it better...like she did with you.” 

“ _ Fuck, man _ . Why the hell would you say something like that?” 

“I don’t know. I was drunk and I just snapped.” 

He’d do anything to take those words back, turn back time and pluck them right out of the air. Stitch the broken pieces back together and scrub away the memory of the way you had looked at him as you fought back tears. Forget the twinge he felt when you pulled away from him, bottom lip quivering and eyes shining. 

Javi scoffs. “I think  _ stupid _ might be an understatement, Steve.” 

“Yeah,” he says, stubbing out the rest of his cigarette. “She didn’t deserve that. Just wanted me to talk about my feelings and shit, and I lashed out.” 

“You’ve always been such a pro at that.” 

A small smile tugs at the corner of Steve’s lips. “Don’t act like you’re any better.” 

The two men lapse into silence, Javi typing away on his typewriter and Steve scanning a mostly redacted page of a transcripted phone call. But not even the challenge of piecing together the intel is not enough to distract him from his thoughts of you. Javi casts furtive glances at Steve out of the corner of his eyes, guilt squeezing at his stomach. 

“Hey,” Steve says a moment later. “Thanks for being there for her last night when I wasn’t. It really means a lot to me.” 

Javi sighs, leaning back in his seat. “About that.” 

Steve looks up from the transcript, eyes narrowed slightly. “About  _ what _ ?” 

Javi taps the arm of his chair nervously. “She didn’t spend the night, she didn’t even come inside.” 

“What are you talking about?” 

“I had another girl over,” Javi mumbles. 

“ _ Jesus fucking Christ, Javi _ !” Steve snaps loudly. 

Several heads in the office turn in their directions, eyebrows furrowed in either annoyance from the disturbance or curiosity. Steve shakes his head, giving a shrug and an innocent smile and the eyes slowly return to their tasks. 

“What happened?” He hisses under his breath. 

Javi huffs, rubbing at the bruise on his collarbone. “She knocked on my door last night. I didn’t know it was her when I answered it. She saw me, figured it out and left before I could stop her. After that, I don’t know.” 

“What the fuck were you thinking?” Steve hisses under his breath. 

“Me? She wouldn’t have shown up at my door in the first place if you weren’t being such an asshole.” 

“You’re still sleeping around.” 

“No.” Javi clenches his jaw. “Mariana’s my CI, it just happened.”

“Having sex doesn’t just  _ happen _ , Javi.” 

“Neither does being a dick to your wife,  _ Steve _ .” Javi retorts. “It was a one-time deal, it didn’t mean anything.” 

Steve rolls his eyes. “Right, like I haven’t heard that one before.” 

“Oh fuck you, Murphy.” Javi lights a cigarette and exhales sharply. “You’re no saint yourself. Unless you’ve suddenly found salvation in the bottom of a bottle.” 

They stare at each other, mouths pressed into scowls and nostrils flaring. Javi is the first to break, eyes flickering down to watch the end of his cigarette smolder away. 

“This isn’t gonna help anything,” he says. “Pointing fingers and shit. We both fucked up.” 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Steve crosses his arms over his chest and looks up at the high ceiling. 

“So what now? What do you do when this happens?” 

Steve runs a hand over his face. “We’re gonna need a lotta wine and some knee pads.” 

Javi raises his eyebrows. “For what?” 

“Cuz we’re gonna be begging for forgiveness for a while.” 

**_________**

The sun is setting by the time your bus finally reaches the stop a few blocks away from the apartment complex. All around you the nightlife stirs slowly. Groups of teens pass you on the street talking and laughing loudly, women sit on the stoops trading gossip and stories. Taxis honk and music blares from the club down the street. Just a regular night in the city. 

But even though energy and warmth hang in the air, you can’t help but feel a bit drained as you begin the walk. Normally you’d take in the sights and smells, but today you keep your head down and just let the world pass around you. Allow yourself to be propelled by the lazy current of people and faces. 

You’re in no hurry to get home. You know Steve’s still probably at the office, but the possibility of seeing him again makes your stomach flip. It’s conflicting, the desire to sink into his arms after such a long day, matched by the lingering sting from his words. You aren’t sure which force is stronger.

It’s dark now, the last swatches of dusky orange fading as the sun disappears below the horizon. You trudge up the stairs, purse twisted around your body as you root in the bag for your keys. You stop in front of the door, shifting your weight from foot to foot and bite the pad of your thumb. Your eyes trace the golden lettering etched into the door and you finally unlock it with a sigh. 

The apartment is not empty, and it takes you a moment to process this information, because the smell of food catches you off guard. You stand in the open doorway dumbfounded, keys still dangling from your fingers. 

Steve walks into the room, shirtsleeves rolled up and hands stuffed in his pockets. “Hey, honey.” 

“What’s going on?” You put your purse on the front table and push the door shut, eyes scanning the room. They roam from the dim lights and lit candles to the vase of flowers on the coffee table and land on your husband’s guilty face. 

“I, uh, cooked you dinner and Javi ran out to get dessert.” 

“You did?” 

Steve runs a hand through his hair. “Yeah...we let you down, darling….and we wanted to do something to make up for it.” 

You cross your arms over your chest. “It’s gonna take a little more than dinner and dessert to fix that.” 

“Just hear me out, okay?” He slowly takes a step forward, reaching for you. “I was an ass last night.” 

“Yeah.” You let him take your hands, your lips pressed together as you eye him warily. 

“I hurt you, and I’m sorry. There’s no excuse for how I was acting.” Steve threads his fingers through yours and squeezes them. “I shouldn’t have snapped at you like that. It was a shitty thing to do and you didn’t deserve it.” 

You nod, biting your bottom lip as you mull over his apology. “You were a dick.”

“I know.” He rubs his thumb over the back of your hand. “And I know saying sorry is not enough. Tell me what to do to make this better, I’ll do anything. You want me to get on my knees right here, just say the word and I’ll do it.” He moves as if to kneel in front of you, but you stop him. 

“As great as that would be, you don’t need to do that.” You meet his eyes, his baby blues shining with sincerity. “I felt like I was being punished for caring about you.” Your voice quivers and Steve hangs his head. “What I  _ want  _ is for you to talk to me. To tell me what’s going on and to stop lying to me and pretending everything’s okay.”

He takes a deep breath. “I don’t want to scare you. The shit I’ve seen I...I don’t want you to look at me any different.” 

“And where has all that macho stuff gotten us so far?” Your hands cup his face. “For better or worse right? That’s what I promised you, that I would stand by you no matter what. There’s nothing you’ve seen that’s going to make me break that promise.” 

Steve presses his forehead to yours, falling silent for a moment as he gathers his thoughts. “Sometimes I’m worried this place is gonna change me,” he mumbles.

“What do you mean?” 

He clenches his jaw and for a second you’re worried he’s gonna shut down again. Instead, Steve wraps his arms around your waist. 

“Carrillo threw two men out of a chopper last week,” he says quietly. “I didn’t do a damn thing about it, either I just sat there and watched. And Carrillo, shit, he didn’t even change a shade, just went about his day like nothing happened. Like he didn’t just execute someone. But every time I close my eyes I hear their screams, because their blood is on my hands.” 

“ _ Steve. _ ” 

He shakes his head. “No you don’t understand. I wanted to be up there. I knew whatever he was gonna do wasn’t going to be legal, but I pushed it aside because I needed him to take me seriously. I was so fucking tired of him icing me out. I wanted to be all in, but if throwing people out of fucking helicopters is what  _ all in _ means then I’m not so sure. I mean Javi told me he shot a kid in the head--”

“ _ Fuck _ .” 

“And I didn’t say anything, didn’t do anything to try and stop him. I don’t ever want to get so caught up in getting Escobar that I become like that. I don’t want to look in the mirror and not recognize the man in front of me. What if-- what if one day I’m the one who pulls the trigger or--”

“You won’t.” You try to fill your tone with every ounce of conviction you can muster. “Because that’s not who you are, or what you’re capable of. The fact that you’re so broken up about this is proof you wouldn’t go that far.” 

Steve stays quiet, arms still wrapped around you. “How do you know?”

You tilt your head. “‘Cause I know who I married. Yeah, you’ve got a temper, you’re a little hotheaded, sometimes you’re reckless and stupid--”

“Are you insulting me or trying to make me feel better?” 

“The point  _ is _ , your heart’s in the right spot.” You place a hand over his chest. “That hasn’t changed, and if it does, then I’ll be the first to tell you. But I can only do that if you talk to me. Let me know what’s going on in that hard, stubborn head of yours.” You raise your eyebrows. “You gotta let me in, babe.” 

Steve exhales sharply. “Okay.” 

“Promise?” 

“Scout’s honor.” He holds up three fingers. 

“You know that only counts if you were a Boy Scout, right?”

“I was a Scout. My ma has the photos.” 

“ _ No way _ .” 

“Thought you said you knew me,” he teases with a grin. 

“Well you never told me you were a Boy Scout.”

Steve shrugs. “Wasn’t important.” 

“Oh I bet you looked so cute in your little uniform.”

“Babe.” He rolls his eyes. 

“I’m gonna need to see those pictures, stat.” 

“Hell no,” Steve laughs. “They’re embarrassing.”

“Well you still owe me,” you remind him with a smirk, and he’s so happy you’re smiling at him again that he’s prepared to give you anything. 

Steve huffs. “ _ Fine _ ,” he mumbles. “But only once and you don’t get to keep any.”

“Deal.” You nudge your nose against his. 

His breath fans over your face, and you know he wants to kiss you but he’s waiting you out. Wants to know if you’ll have him again. Your hands slide around his shoulders and you close the distance, brushing your lips against his once and then again firmly. The gesture seals the peace treaty. There’s still things to be sorted out, promises to be acted upon, but for now the war is over. You can find reconciliation in his arms once again.

Steve sighs, melting into your body. He tugs you against him, holding you like he never wants to let you go again, and you’re content to let him. But as always, no good moment goes unruined and the timer on the kitchen counter begins to ring. 

He pulls away with a reluctant groan, lips still pressing kisses along your jaw. “That’s the mac and cheese.” 

“Homemade?” You tilt your head to the side, giving him more access. 

“Your favorite.” Steve nips at your jaw, his hand sliding down your back to squeeze your ass. “Left early to make it for you.” 

Your fingers curl into the front of his shirt. “You’re pulling out all the stops, Murphy. Might just have to forgive you after all.” 

He gives you a last kiss before pulling away. “Told you I was gonna make it up to you.” Steve turns you in the direction of the hallway and pushes you gently towards it. “Go change. Hopefully Javi will be back when you’re done and we can eat.” 

You make no move to go, instead catching his gaze over your shoulder. “Hey, Steve.” 

“Yeah, baby?” He squeezes your hips. 

“I love you,” you whisper, cupping the back of his neck.

Steve smiles again, but this one is different, more relaxed and there’s a glimmer of reassurance in his eyes. “I love  _ you _ ,” he sighs and drops a kiss to your shoulder. “Now stop distracting me before dinner burns.”

Steve releases you and this time you make your way back to the bedroom. It’s a relief to be back home, to finally kick off your shoes and shed the blazer and dress pants you’ve been wearing all day. It’s like taking off armor after a long battle, letting the walls tumble down around you with each article of clothing you shed. 

You trade the power suit for a pair of fraying pajama pants and an old paint-stained t-shirt. The dark orange splatters serve as souvenirs from when you and Steve redid the kitchen cabinets last year. It had been a fight to get him to agree to orange, but you wore him down eventually with grins and kisses. He had just wanted you happy, and in the moment orange cabinets were what made you happy. You trace the small splotches and smile fondly. 

The front door slams and Javi’s voice echoes through the apartment, Steve’s soon following. You move around the room, straightening up your small knick knacks. It’s a stall tactic, you don’t really want to go out and face Javi just yet. Don’t really know what you’ll say to him, if you’ll admit that his actions hurt much more than they should have. 

See there’s a storm of confusion welling up inside of you. A mix of emotions boiling over, love and joy and fear, most profoundly. You push it out of your mind for another day, not ready to face the simple fact; that you feel something achingly deep for Javi. It’s the same thing you feel for your husband, and somehow that makes it even harder to figure out. 

You’re just cleaning up the last haphazardly tossed articles of clothing left behind by Steve, when there’s a knock on the bedroom door. 

“Yeah babe?” You turn, to find Javi leaning awkwardly against the doorframe. “ _ Oh _ .” 

“Guess again,” he mumbles more to the floor than to you, gaze meeting yours from behind his long eyelashes. “Can we talk?” 

You bite your bottom lip, folding one of Steve’s polos and dropping it onto the bed. “Sure.” 

Javi shuts the door and takes a step further into the room. He eyes the distance between the two of you, the way you stare at him cautiously, and sighs, his shoulders slumping. “Look--” 

“Javi, you don’t have to say anything.” You shake your head. 

“I  _ do _ ,” he insists. “I owe you an explanation and an apology. It was wrong to do what I did. I-I was wrong.” 

“You don’t owe me anything,” you mutter under your breath, playing with the hem of your shirt. 

Javi groans. “ _ Fuck, nena _ . Will you let me talk for a second? Please?” 

He waits for you to interrupt him again, his eyebrows furrowed and jaw set. But when all you do is press your lips together into a hard line, he continues. 

“I’m...sorry,” he says awkwardly, testing the words on his tongue. “I made a mistake, a big fucking mistake, and I’m kicking myself for it every goddamn second. But I promise you, it only ever happened once, and it meant nothing to me.”

You dig your nails into your palms, wanting to say that once was enough, that claiming it meant nothing didn’t fix the shock of your broken heart. And it  _ was _ a shock to see him push you away to find comfort in the arms of a stranger. But you stay quiet, staring at him as your throat goes dry and tears prick your eyes. 

“I should have come to you first, I’m sorry.” Javi shakes his head. 

You can’t help the short snort of laughter that leaves your lips. “You don’t have any obligation to me, Javi. You can do whatever you want with  _ whoever _ you want.”

Javi huffs. “Querida.” 

“I mean it. Sleep with whoever you want, I don’t care.” You shrug, trying for nonchalance, but your quivering voice gives it away.

“Baby, come on.” 

“ _ Don’t call me that _ .” Your voice rises, sounding shrill in your own ears and you cringe, pausing for a moment to gather your thoughts. When you speak again, your tone is measured. “I’m not your baby. I’m not your fucking  _ querida _ , or whatever else you call me in bed. And you don’t have to apologize for the same reason I don’t have any right to be upset: there is no  _ us _ . There never was. We’re just two friends and sometimes we have sex, and that’s it.” 

You take a watery breath, scrubbing angrily at the tears that betray you.

“It’s my fault for playing into it,” you mumble. “For putting too much stock into whatever this is. For showing up at your door last night and expecting you to take care of me. You’re not my boyfriend, Javi. And  _ this _ , this shouldn’t-- it doesn’t mean anything else.” 

You wrap your arms around yourself, trying to keep the emotions from spilling out, trying to hold it all together long enough to just make it through dinner. But the cracks are widening every time you look at Javi. Love and fear and guilt crashing into you and you don’t know how much longer you can keep it all in. 

Javi studies your face, jaw clenched and head tilted. You can see the gears turning in his mind as he assesses the situation, thinking about his next move and the consequences of it, like any good agent would. The wrong word and you’re gone. The right word and well...he’d be wading into the vast unknown of sentimentality. He doesn’t know if he’s ready for all that yet and neither do you. 

“C’mere,” Javi says finally, his voice barely above a whisper. He moves a little closer, wrapping his arms around you tightly and pulling you into him. 

Your walls crumble and you fall into him willingly, seeking out the comfort of his warm body. Javi fills your senses so completely it’s no wonder you feel his absence so acutely when he’s gone. The familiar mix of bitter cigarette smoke and strong cologne burns your nose, but you press your face deeper. Allow yourself to feel what you feel for just a moment. Your fingers curl into his worn leather jacket, and you all but melt into him when one of his hands rubs into the small of your back. 

“I’m sorry,” Javi says, pressing a kiss to your temple. 

The unspoken words ring louder than the ones shared. 

“I know,” you mumble, letting his proximity and the grounding hold of his embrace wash over you. 

You could cry again just like this, nestled against him with nowhere to go, and nowhere else you’d rather be. 

**Author's Note:**

> Follow my tumblr for more: bobaandthefetts


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